


Childe Roland to the Dark Tower Came

by sqbr



Category: Childe Roland to the Dark Tower Came
Genre: Fanart, Games, Gen, Inspired by Poetry, Interactive, Interactive Fiction, Visual Novel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-29 04:47:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1001078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sqbr/pseuds/sqbr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A playable game of the first few stanzas of Robert Browning's poem. The first chapter links to a visual novel version, the second chapter is the text illustrated with screenshots. Created for the Coursera course on Online Games: Literature, New Media, and Narrative.</p><p>EDIT: Dropbox is being weird, let me know if the links don't work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Visual Novel

**Author's Note:**

> I took some pretty big liberties with the text since the poetic style was hard to emulate. I was originally going to write a flat out parody but the moodiness of the poem got to me and I ended up being mostly sincere. I refused to be as ableist as Browning though :P

[Download the visual novel](https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/u/85733830/Childe%20Roland%20to%20the%20Dark%20Tower%20Came%20by%20Sqbr-all.zip)  
Playable on Mac OS, Windows and Linux


	2. Illustrated Hypertext

  
With a smile the old man points you towards a dusty path, away from the main highway. There, he claims, you will find the Dark Tower you have sought for so long.

Your first thought is:  
He lies in every word  
A glimmer of hope

* * *

* * *

Why else would he lurk this empty stretch of road, except to lead travellers astray? Look at that malicious glint in his eye! Any minute now he will crack his skull with a gleeful laugh and write your epitaph in the dust.  
Yet you turn as pointed.

* * *

* * *

But hope of what: success? Or simply an end to your suffering?  
You have wandered the world fruitlessly for so many years now, what would you do if you ever actually succeeded? The idea of failure is almost a relief.

Yet you turn as pointed.

  


  
Ahead lies the ominous tract which all agree hides the Dark Tower.

 

Follow the old man's directions  
Turn back

* * *

You feel neither hope nor pride, only gladness at the thought of some kind of end. 

The day is dreary, and the road is long. Are you really fit to find the Tower? Perhaps it would be better to fail, as all others have failed...  
You turn to look back one last time at the safe road you are leaving behind.

  
...but it is gone. Nothing but grey plains from here to the horizon.  
You might as well go on. There is nothing else left to do. 

THE END

Begin your quest again

* * *

  
And go where?  
All your friends are dead. The only life you have known for year upon year has been the pursuit of this quest.  
**I said turn back!**

 

Fine. On your own head be it.

  
You turn back and join the old man at his perch by the highway

He says "What ails you, noble knight? I thought you sought the Dark Tower!"

You reply "I changed my mind. I'm turning back."

"Are you sure? You're abandoning your quest?"

"Yes," you say "I am sure."

The old man smiles. "Finally! I have waited so long for someone like you!"

"Someone like me?"

"Another strong enough to come this far but too weak to take the final step. At last my curse is done. At last I can truly rest." To your susprise the old man starts to fade away, like a ghost. "May your sojourn here...be not so long as mine..."

  
And now you are the messenger on the road, cursed to point travellers on their way.Perhaps one day another will turn back as you did and take your place. Or perhaps some other knight will succeed where you and so many others failed, and the Tower itself will be found at last.

But for now you stand with your staff and point questers down the dusty road to their Doom.

THE END.

Begin your quest again

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> I'm quite happy with the art for this. To begin with I was trying for a medieval woodcut style, but ended up with something more like the expressive, slightly surreal watercolours of Browning's fellow 19th century poet William Blake. I thought about adding more stanzas but I ran out of steam and this seemed a reasonable place to stop, plus the more of it I remediated the more obvious it became that I don't entirely understand what's going on.


End file.
